


no friends closer than the ones we've lost

by doctor_whatthefuck



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Guys Made Them Do It, Dehumanization, Foe Yay, Mutual Non-Con, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Human Genitalia, Other, Victim Blaming, dekoboldisation, except on a kobold, gratuitous 'you're just like me' speeches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_whatthefuck/pseuds/doctor_whatthefuck
Summary: Cel won't ever trust Shoin again, but that's alright. He's found another way to get to them.
Relationships: Sassraa/Celiquilliton "Cel" Sidebottom, Yoshida Shoin/Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	no friends closer than the ones we've lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vogelwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogelwrites/gifts).



> i have this au in my head where shoin never went all 'THE FLESH IS WEAK I SHALL TRANSCEND' and managed to cover for the fact that he's just, the worst, for long enough for he and cel to meet. they hit it off in the sort of 'i don't super like you, but you're the only person around who's even slightly on my intellectual level' way, become lab partners and end up falling into bed together. and once they've had plenty of time to develop a sort of doctor/master dynamic, shoin finally shows his hand, probably with kobold enslavement, and cel gets the hell out of dodge with what kobolds they can rescue. then later shoin recaptures them and sassraa, and so here we are. with the awful porn.  
> title from rain in soho by the mountain goats

“Sassraa,” Cel whispers, and their heart spasms as her scaled little face tilts so slowly up to meet theirs. Her eyes are wide, pupils blown to black pits, completely unfocused, and Cel is sure they can see fog clouding her irises.

“Little buddy, snap out of it,” they beg her, voice cracking. “Please? Please come back to me, please”

Behind them, Shoin chuckles, low and oily, and Cel’s teeth grind together. “Come on, Celiquillithon, you know the dosage it’s got running through its veins right now. After all, you administered it yourself.”

Cel wants to hit him, wants to beat the evil stain on the noble profession of alchemy to a bloody pulp, but they can’t move. If they do, who’ll hold Sassraa? She’s so vulnerable right now, so easily hurt.

Every time they blink, they see the back of her neck. The needle hole, scarred over from her time away from this monster. Until they’d reopened it, under Shoin’s calm directions and gleeful threats. Until they’d filled her veins up with poison again.

“It wont need a top up for at least a day,” Shoin continues. “You might as well get some enjoyment out of it, before the effects wear off enough for it to be useful. I know your tastes stray to the, ah _unusual_ , I’m sure this’ll be nothing new.”

Cel’s head swings up to stare at him, mind blank with shock. Shoin is awful, the worst, they know that, but he cant possibly be implying what he is. He can’t. That would be... beyond. Beyond anything.

Shoin meets their stare with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow. “Don’t be coy. I can tell this one is special to you; you even learned its name. Go on, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you haven’t considered it.”

Cel can feel their eyes welling, their stomach twisting over and over; at least Shoin hasn’t fed them, or they’d be vomiting. They clutch Sassraa to their chest, wrapping her up like their skinny arms have any hope of protecting her, helplessly hoping she won’t be able to process Japanese right now.

“I would never,” they spit through the lump in their throat. “Never, not like this.”

Shoin’s smile widens. “You will. Just like this. Or I’ll do worse.”

He doesn’t elaborate on what worse means. He doesn’t need to. A parade of cruelty and horror is marching through Cel’s brain, and the drumbeats pound through their skull.

“Why are you doing this?” they choke out. “What’s the, the _point?_ ”

Shoin shrugs, theatrical with it. “I’m a scientist, Celiquillithon. I’m curious by nature. Indulge me.”

Sassraa is nuzzling into their chest, making the soft little churrs of a happy kobold. She still knows them, somehow, she must, and Cel cannot decide if that’s better or worse. Either way, it’s gutting them.

“Don’t,” they whisper.

“I’m not going to do anything,” Shoin replies magnanimously. “You are.” He waves a lazy hand, rising from his seat to wander over to the chair Cel is hunched into, a ghost of a presence behind them. “Go on. You’d know better than I where to begin.”

And as much as they’d love to tell him how wrong he is, Cel thinks they might. Kobolds don’t have any cultural hang-ups about sex that Cel’s noticed, and Meerk had been happy to give them pointers when they’d asked one slightly intoxicated evening. Besides, Cel’s found, the basics are fairly easy to grasp no matter what the species.

Cel gently tips Sassraa’s little body back, so that she’s straddling their lap instead of clutched safe and close to them. Sassraa murrs in discontent at being pulled from her warm spot, but she snuggles back readily into the hand Cel keeps on her back. Cel’s always had big palms, long fingers, and Sassraa is a perfect-sized little kobold, so they can keep her balanced easily with just one hand.

The other they move to cup her jaw, scritching at the sensitive grooves behind her ears until she’s purring, smiling toothy and dazed up at them. Cel tries to mirror her, but they’re sure their expression looks hideous, more like a wound than a smile.

“Get on with it,” Shoin cuts over. Fuck him, may no beast shit on his hide, he sounds _bored_.

They let their hand trail down Sassraa’s belly, marvelling distantly at how satisfying she is to touch, all pebbled scales, firm and silky. She’s even got a little tummy, after a few months of decent food, and Cel wants to press their face into it. If they do, maybe everything will fall away, and they won’t be in this terrible place that used to be so familiar to them anymore.

Sassraa pushes up into their touch, still purring in utter contentment. The folds around her vent are loosening, enough that what’s normally just a shadow between her legs is a definite opening, and Cel tries so hard to pretend that their mouth isn’t going dry.

“Touch it,” Shoin orders coldly, and Cel forces their leaden arm down to slide a thumb over the scale-rimmed entrance to Sassraa’s body, watching it quiver under their touch. Sassraa rolls her hips up into the light pressure, her tail wriggling and snaking around Cel’s thigh to anchor herself. She’s panting just a little, hazy eyes soft with pleasure, so _open_.

Cel’s fingertip barely has to press to dip inside, and they can feel Sassraa’s clits swelling, almost pushing into their touch as they fill with blood. So gently, they massage over them, and Sassraa shivers with delight, churring deep in their throat.

It only takes a little push before Cel’s finger are sinking in so painfully easily, a knife though butter. From the inside, Sassraa’s a little warm and so, so tight, so slick. She whines long and high, almost like she’s singing, as Cel enters her, pushing her hips down until Cel’s whole finger is enveloped in clenching wetness. Her clits come to rest against Cel’s second knuckle, little pulsing points of flesh, and Cel grinds their finger gently against them until Sassraa is whimpering and squirming and staring up at them with those opaque liquid eyes.

“Fascinating,” Shoin murmurs over their shoulder, and he doesn’t even sound aroused. Just. Just curious. “Keep going, then.”

So slow, so careful, they draw their finger out. Sassraa whimpers, hips twitching, and trills with delight when Cel feeds it back into her.

She’s loving it, and that’s the worst part. That’s the very worst thing Shoin could have taken from them. Cel will never be able to look at Sassraa without remembering this; will never be able to make her happy again, not without the memory of their drugged pleasure poisoning it.

“Curious,” they echo, fucking Sassraa slowly on their finger and stroking her back in time to their thrusts. Their voice sounds so far away, faded and distant. “Sure. But not about Sassraa, right? You couldn’t care less about her if you tried. This is just another way to get to me.”

“Aren’t you smart,” Shoin replies, but there’s the slightest edge to it, and that makes Cel smile, small and bitter. How horrifying, for Sassraa, that her own rape isn’t even _about_ her. How humiliating it must be for Shoin, to know that he’s been supplanted in Cel’s affections for someone he doesn’t even consider sapient.

For a while after that, Shoin keeps his mouth shut, and Cel concentrates on Sassraa. She’s so beautiful, hips squirming into Cel’s thrusts and mouth hanging open, tongue darting at the air. Perfect, taking what she needs from them.

_Look your fill_ , some dark, deep-buried corner of Cel whispers, _you’ll never have this again._ Cel tries so very hard not to listen.

By chance, they manage to find a particularly good angle to rub against Sassraa’s clits as they fill her, and Sassraa’s moan is high and gorgeous and so _desperate_ that they can’t supress their full-body shudder. They gentle her with the palm resting on their back, just in case she’s aware enough to notice, but their face must have twisted up as the horror of it digs into their guts.

Behind them, Shoin laughs nastily. “Oh, come now, you can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

“I’m not enjoying this,” Cel repeats dully, and Shoin snorts.

“I do have eyes, you know. You’re aroused, Celiquillithon.”

They don’t look down at their crotch. They won’t give him the satisfaction, and they don’t really need to check, anyway.

“You claim to be so moral, so upstanding,” Shoin muses, not quite able to keep the edge out of his voice. “The great ethical alchemist – well, these days, at least. Since you had your ‘come to the light’ moment.”

With a heavy jolt, Cel remembers everything they’d told Shoin, during those long, rambling, sleep-deprived conversations in labs and sitting rooms and in bed under mussed sheets. What had possessed them, to spill so many of their secrets? They’d actually thought they were being careful at the time, keeping things back. As if anything at all isn’t more than enough, where this man is concerned.

Give Yoshida Shoin an inch, and he’ll strip you bare.

“And yet,” Shoin continues, his hand curling around Cel’s shoulder like a leather restraint, “when you’re given the opportunity to really cut loose, to set aside all those morals and just do as you please... you’re just like me. Just like everything you rail against so ineloquently. All you need is the excuse.”

“You’d have hurt her,” Cel whispers, blurred eyes fixed on their dearest, their beloved friend, senseless and drowning in drugs, completely at their mercy. “You didn’t give me a choice.”

They can hear the smile in Shoin’s voice. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” The heat of his body radiates against the back of their head as he leans closer. “You know, I think it could take another finger.”

Cel is so achingly careful when they bring another finger to rest against where Sassraa is stretched around them. So gentle, easing it inside and watching for any pain on Sassraa’s face, the slightest flinch. There’s nothing, but that doesn’t mean this is okay; for all Cel knows, the drug Shoin uses on the kobolds has anaesthetic properties. They haven’t had a chance to really study it, not yet.

Sassraa squeals softly when they push forward, the sound shading up to a gorgeous whimper when both Cel’s fingers are inside her as far as they’ll go. She is _so_ tight, so tight that Cel feels an answering pulse where they’re confined in their trousers. For one single second, they wonder if they could fuck her, if it could ever work, and then the thought is buried under an avalanche of horror and guilt.

They freeze, for that second, and Sassraa takes over, rolling her hips shamelessly, grinding her clits up against Cel’s fingers. Shaking themself, Cel manages to find a rhythm with her, giving her the friction and pressure she wants, their own mind throwing off sparks as it greys out. Until Sassraa’s body in their arms and around their fingers is all there is, and nothing else matters.

_Oh, if only._ Shoin’s hand still rests against their shoulder like a black of granite.

Sassraa is _beautiful_ as she comes, head tipped back and teeth flashing, eyes fluttered closed, chest heaving as her whole body twists into her release. She clenches so tight it almost hurts, clits pulsing against their fingers, and Cel wants to scream and never stop.

She’s so _happy_ , lost in her pleasure. She’ll be so happy, right up until the drugs wear off, and she remembers Cel did this to her.

A gentle drum of long, familiar fingers on Cel’s collarbone wrenches them out of their head. “You know,” Shoin says, fascinated, “I honestly had no idea they could do that.”

“I’m not surprised,” Cel murmurs, swallowing back bile. “You never did know as much as you think you do, Yoshida.”

The hand on their shoulder tightens to a vice, and Cel ignores it, sliding their fingers carefully out of Sassraa and bundling her up to their chest again, a pile of lazy, happy kobold. Sassraa burrows in with obvious delight, shoving her snout into the crook of Cel’s neck and sighing with contentment.

In one fast motion, Shoin releases them and steps away, feet clipping over the stone to a lab bench. “Take a moment,” he tells them, and his voice is _dripping_ with sadistic triumph. “When you’ve pulled yourself together again, I have a few reports I’d like your eyes on.”

They go to ask about Sassraa, what they should do with her, but their throat locks around the sound – what if he tells them to leave her, or hand her off to the guards, or worse? Instead, they clutch her to them, so tight she starts to squirm weakly in protest. They’re not giving her up, they _won’t._

Shoin glances over at them, one eyebrow raised. “I left your rooms as they were. Put the creature there, if you must.” A sickening smile twitches at his lips. “I’ve got a very lenient policy on pets.”

The urge to rip Shoin’s throat out rises acidic and burning in them, only ebbing when Sassraa makes a grumpy little noise. Then it bleeds out as if they’ve been punctured.

“Sorry, little buddy,” Cel whispers, and their voice quivers and cracks with everything they’re piling into that one apology. They stand on weak legs, trying as hard as they can to walk normally, Sassraa a solid, heavy weight in their arms. As solid and heavy as the ball of terrified rage they carry in their gut.

Shoin doesn’t look up at them as they leave, but they know him well enough to know that he’s smirking.


End file.
